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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196065">appeal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropwaltz/pseuds/raindropwaltz'>raindropwaltz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adultery, F/M, M/M, Mention of Disability, Multi, PWP, Sith!Obi-Wan, Threesome - F/M/M, anakin gets trained by qui-gon that's all i really know, appropriate inappropriate use of the force, but they make do, his humans love him anyways, honestly this is just boning, i cannot believe someone wrote this ship already, idk what this au is but eh, it works for them so it's not inappropriate thank u, it's minor but i'm gonna be careful, like holy crow i gotta find it, maul does not have an organic lower half and does not have a prosthetic here either, sorry anakin, sorry everyone, they're both dark together and trying to get padmé to join, they're not so much 'sith lords' as they are just independent agents of chaos, well that and anakin &amp; padmé are married but it's not perfect</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:20:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropwaltz/pseuds/raindropwaltz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it's a plea, every time they visit her. an offer, a request. an appeal, though not on the galactic scale she's used to.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Padmé Amidala/Darth Maul, Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>appeal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i honestly have no idea what's up with this AU--it's pretty incoherent, just some dirty ideas from <a href="https://shierak-inavva.tumblr.com/post/622781172062240768/so-2-sith-lords-a-senator-walk-into-a-bar-im">some artwork i finished up the other day.</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The appeal is within the next few hours.</p>
<p>In her thin robe, she sits on one of her sofas and waits, reviewing holo ledgers. She was distant with her husband when he sent a comm; out on some far flung world caught up fighting in the war she was fighting to <em>end</em>, his disdain for her work in the Senate on their comm was enough to put her off her mood but her attention was lost completely after the conversation turned patronizing.<br/>
He thinks his militant experience has given him years on her, and she thinks back to a time when she was a queen, and he was a child pulling her by the hand. <br/>
She crosses her legs, heaves a sigh, and then over the dull hum of Coruscant, Senator Amidala knows when her security feed has gone offline.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is not a regular occurrence—the sudden baseline of quiet, the prickle of anticipation and the knowledge, the sensation, that she is not alone—but it is, although sporadic, an <em>expected</em> one.<br/>
The presence in her apartment is strong but not fearsome, not oppressive. It slithers into the room and envelops her like smoke, ghosting hands and breath and lips over her before anything physical, but the phantom touches are no less real. But they—as they enter together somehow totally at ease and in-place among her pale decor—are more real than she is prepared for, more often than not.</p>
<p>The events following their arrival are almost ritualistic in their smooth and reverent execution: she is joined on her sofa, dragged into a slow kiss and then released, leisurely, as if this is a daily routine.<br/>
A Dathomirian Zabrak and a former Jedi, clad in dark robes accented with gold. No one would know they were here. No one would ever suspect such a thing, certainly not from Padmé Amidala.</p>
<p><br/>
Maul settles himself back against the arm of the sofa, a display of dominance—not for her absent husband, she knows, but for her. He’s claiming this space, her space, and his red-yellow eyes suggest much more than that. Obi-Wan’s arm slips around her waist, and she feels his mouth brush the shell of her ear, and she’s more than content to let both of them claim whatever they like.<br/>
“My dear Senator,” he purrs, hands already shifting her robe further open, “It’s been too long.”<br/>
She’s long past telling him to stop. <br/>
“Has it?”<br/>
She’s long past making them leave, putting an end to this—<br/>
“Much too long.”<br/>
—because the truth is that she doesn’t want to. His nose buries in her hair and she shifts, reclining and opening herself to him, too-thin black silk gaping and baring a stripe of skin down past her navel that she can feel Maul’s gaze roam over.<br/>
“Did you miss me too?” She turns her head to watch him openly appraising her body, and the expression on his tattooed face makes heat pool between her legs. He shifts, lazily taking in the sight of her laid out like this, and rests his chin on his knuckles.<br/>
“I’m waiting for Kenobi to be satisfied with the scent of your hair and let me have a turn.” Obi-Wan chuckles against her ear, murmuring,<br/>
“It <em>is</em> very lovely.”<br/>
“I’ve used a new product.” She turns her head slightly to nose at his beard. “Do you like it?” He nods, hand lifting to her chin to catch her in a slow kiss again.<br/>
“I do.”<br/>
She turns back to Maul, who, to anyone else might look simply amused—but she sees it in his eyes, the slight tension in his jaw, something that makes a pleasant tension start building in her.<br/>
“Well, I value his opinion—he does have good taste.” There’s a murmured <em>‘thank you, my dear’</em> against her cheek, and she disentangles herself from Obi-Wan, trailing ghost-thin black silk behind her as she climbs astride Maul’s hips. “But I value yours as well.” He doesn’t move, does watch her lean over him with great interest, something that might be a smile tugging at the corner of his tattooed lips as she dips her head to kiss the horn at the crown of his head. “What do you think?”<br/>
One of his hands runs up over her back beneath her robe, calloused skin rasping against hers and making her shiver pleasantly.<br/>
“It’s certainly <em>you</em>,” he mumbles, and she smiles down at him within the confines of the soft, curling curtain her loose hair has created around them.<br/>
“Did you miss me,” she asks again, low but insistent. His hands both rest on her hips now, and hers frame his neck.<br/>
“I know how much you enjoy when I do,” he says at length, tilting his head some and eyeing her in that way he does when he doesn’t intend to outright admit something. She strokes the pads of her thumbs over the column of his throat.<br/>
“<em>Tell me</em>,” she coaxes further, and one of his hands slides between her legs, fingers not delicate nor careful as they press into her folds. Maul’s free hand is at the back of her neck suddenly, drawing her down and holding her still, his voice low in her ear.<br/>
“You would prefer I show you, Lady Amidala,” he growls confidently, and she hears him purr at the slick his probing fingers find. “Ahh, <em>yes</em>,” he bites at the tender skin beneath her ear and his fingers tighten around her neck, “You would <em>much</em> prefer I show you.”<br/>
Padmé rolls her hips against his hand.<br/>
“Then show me,” she commands—and it is a command—and then her voice softens, knowing what he needs. “I’ve missed you as well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His intention is to warm her up for Obi-Wan; his fingers tease between her legs and Padmé ruts against his hand, bracing against his chest as he holds her in place by the back of her neck. She can hear Obi-Wan behind her shifting about, and she knows he’s making himself comfortable. Maul’s teeth bury deep enough into her throat that she has to stop him; one hand takes him by a horn and feels his fingers curl inside of her in response.<br/>
“No marks,” she reprimands, even if her voice is somewhat breathy, “I’m addressing the Senate later.” Maul’s fingers press into the back of her neck, and he scoffs.<br/>
“How dull.”<br/>
At her back, Obi-Wan threads his fingers into her hair and <em>pulls</em>.<br/>
“Not at all,” he purrs into her ear, and Padmé knows precisely what’s on his mind, “This just means we’ll have to leave marks where the Senate can’t see.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s not quite ready to climax when Maul stops—his legs nudge hers further apart and he pulls her thin robe aside, baring her ass and glistening cunt to Obi-Wan. This is usual, expected even, but Padmé shrugs out of her robe and lets it fall to the floor before shifting around and settling back on Maul’s lap once more, this time with her back against his chest. He pauses, letting her arrange herself, and Obi-Wan watches with interest; he’s in just his pants now, and even they’re unfastened. Padmé gives him an appreciative once-over, spreading her legs over Maul’s thighs and letting Lord Kenobi’s eyes roam lasciviously over her bare skin.<br/>
“Stay put,” she tells him, and his brow rises, watching her bring Maul’s hand back to her slick pussy. The Zabrak looks amused, resting his chin on her shoulder and running his opposite hand up over her torso to knead at one lovely breast. She nestles back against him, and her eyes flick back to Obi-Wan again, “I want you to make me come while he watches,” she tells the man at her back, and feels him shudder. Good.<br/>
“Oh?” Already his tattooed fingers are teasing around her entrance again, coating themselves in her slick. Obi-Wan looks very interested now, settling back and eyeing both of them.<br/>
“What a fun mood you’re in today,” he remarks, and she groans when Maul slips two fingers into her.<br/>
“You’ll sit and watch,” she directs Kenobi, “No touching.” His lips quirk up slightly but he sounds a bit more uncertain,<br/>
“Not even myself?” Padmé rolls her hips against Maul’s fingers and whines as he tugs almost too-hard at one pink nipple.<br/>
“You can touch yourself, but do not come until I tell you.”<br/>
Obi-Wan’s palming his stiffened cock already, reclining against the opposite end of the sofa to watch them.<br/>
“This is a <em>very</em> fun mood, hm?” Behind her, Maul’s teeth graze the side of her throat and his thumb brushes her clit.<br/>
“Mmm, I do love when you taunt this way...” She feels his fingers curl inside of her and clamps around him a bit, her arm curling around his head to keep him close.<br/>
“Show him how much you please me,” she murmurs breathlessly, rocking against his thrusting fingers, “show Obi-Wan how to wait his turn now.”</p>
<p>Maul <em>laughs</em>.<br/>
“Did you hear her?” He locks eyes with Obi-Wan as his fingers thrust deeper into their lover, their pretty senator. “Watch closely, Kenobi,” he growls, hefting one of her legs up and spreading her even wider, “see how well I please her.” Padmé’s eyes are on Obi-Wan’s even as Maul finger fucks her, even as she writhes in his grasp and moans for him; the older man is pumping his cock in steady, long strokes and watching as she instructed, somewhat flushed and delighted with the display. She’s noticed, already, that both men’s hands are moving in time with one another—she <em>understands</em>, meeting the thrusts with her hips and clenching rhythmically around Maul’s fingers, watching Obi-Wan grunt and groan with each movement, watching him shudder with every wet, indecent sound from her cunt.<br/>
“He seems patient, doesn’t he?” Maul’s voice is a low rumble in her ear, his thumb lazily tracing around her clit. His eyes are on Obi-Wan’s, and Padmé groans, long and low, feeling his fingers press deep and scissor inside of her. “He isn’t. He wants to join us,” her hips stutter and Maul’s teeth graze her skin, “He wants to fuck you right now, so much that it’s absolutely <em>shameful</em>.” Obi-Wan grunts across from them, grimacing slightly.<br/>
“That’s unkind, Maul,” he grumbles, and Padmé grips at Maul’s arm, feeling him sink his teeth into her neck despite her reprimand before.<br/>
“Maul—“ It feels good, better than it should, his fingers in her soaked pussy, his mouth at her neck. Obi-Wan’s eyes on her, the knowledge that as he brought himself to climax his thoughts were on fucking her—<br/>
“There,” she gasps, bucking her hips against Maul’s fingers when they plunge deep and hard and curl, “Oh goddess <em>there</em>, <strong><em>yes</em></strong>—“ Her fingers grasp at him and he rams his fingers into her hard and fast, roughly bringing her to a shrieking climax. <br/>
Obi-Wan groans and Padmé rocks against Maul’s hand to ride out her orgasm, but eyes their other lover.<br/>
“Don’t come, Obi-Wan,” she warns him, breathless but firm, “Not until I’ve given permission.” He stops his hand grudgingly, watching her with a heated gaze as Maul’s fingers slip out of her, slick and dripping.<br/>
“Not good enough,” Maul growls against her ear, and Padmé beckons Obi-Wan to them. <br/>
“Shall we let him help?” She wraps her fingers around one of his horns, feeling his free hand roam over her belly and chest. He nods, and Obi-Wan obliges her call, taking a moment to toss his pants aside with her clothes before he settles himself between her legs.<br/>
Maul’s soaked fingers slide into Padmé’s mouth one by one, her tongue laving herself off of his skin, and he tweaks one of her nipples again. <br/>
“Let him taste,” his voice sounds almost like a plea, and Obi-Wan meets Padmé’s eyes as he lifts her hips slightly, shifting on the sofa so he can lower his head just short of touching the apex of her thighs.<br/>
“May I?” he asks, reverent, and she drapes a leg over his shoulder, holding Maul’s wrist as he hooks his fingers on her tongue. This is all the permission Obi-Wan needs, and his mouth is on her cunt, tongue dragging in slow, broad strokes over her soaked folds. Padmé moans around Maul’s fingers, stomach tensing and heaving as Obi-Wan’s expert mouth works between her legs—she reaches and cards fingers through his tawny hair, rolling her hips against his face and jolting when his beard prickles her clit.</p>
<p><br/>
Maul holds her in place, a hand pressed between her breasts like a restraint.<br/>
“Do you know what he’s thinking, Lady Amidala?” Obi-Wan’s tongue is maddeningly slow, his intent very obviously to tease. She knows they have time. She lets him continue, saliva gathering around Maul’s intruding fingers while her hips cant against Obi-Wan’s mouth—he’s deliberate in teasing her but she allows it, knowing the payoff is always worth the wait. At her ear, Maul continues, and his fingers trace her ribs and up under her breasts. “He thinks you taste sweeter than Toniray. He thinks he could drink you for the rest of his days—“ Maul scoffs, teeth drawing a whine out of her. “What a poetic bit of nonsense.” Padmé lets out a sort of shivery, breathy laugh, and Maul’s fingers travel down to partner with Obi-Wan’s mouth, spreading her folds and teasing at her clit, sliding the little hood back and making Padmé jerk and groan in his arms. “He wants to fuck you, is the truth beneath all of it. He wants to feel you around his cock the way I felt you around my fingers, he wants to—“ Obi-Wan’s fingers replace his tongue and he lifts his head, meeting Padmé’s eyes and cutting Maul off.<br/>
“—Fuck you until you’re completely satisfied and can’t think of anything except how much you want the two of us, and how much we both please you.” There’s a cheeky little smirk on his face, and his fingers slowly ease in and out of her as Maul teases her clit, the two of them finding rhythm to keep her hips rocking against them but not enough to orgasm. She tugs Maul’s fingers out of her mouth as Obi-Wan presses kisses to the curls on her mound and then up over her heaving belly.<br/>
“Then get to it,” she gasps, yanking his head up by a tuft of his hair. He eases up on his arms, dragging kisses up her belly, her sternum, pausing to bite at her neck, and then leaning over her to finally sit face to face.<br/>
“Is that what you want, my darling?” Already she’s arranging her legs around his waist, and with slight guidance from Maul’s hand his cock lines up to rub against her, their hips rocking together but not joining, not yet.<br/>
“I want what you’re assuring you can give me,” she quips, breathing deep and resting her head against Maul’s shoulder, smirking up at Obi-Wan in return and tilting her head to nip at Maul’s jaw. “Let him taste,” she repeats Maul’s words from before, and as his hips slip back enough for her to guide him to her entrance, over her shoulder her two lovers kiss, and Padmé groans delightedly. Pressed between their two bodies and finally filled as she’d been craving, her hands grasp one at Maul’s arm and the other at Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and her legs wrap around his waist, coaxing him deeper.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Obi-Wan has her this way, Maul growling at her ear and teasing her clit, Obi-Wan’s mouth at her neck and along her jaw. They bring her to a second orgasm together, the occasional snip at one another or crash of mouths over her head until both of their mouths share the taste of her—still, she’s not given the word for her partners to climax as well, and as they shift and catch their breaths, as Padmé rolls onto her stomach and pushes Maul’s clothing aside, bares his chest and the fastenings at his waist where flesh meets metal, his hands frame her waist and his knees tuck up slightly around her. Obi-Wan rests at her back, still hard and waiting, resting a hand at Maul’s waist on the leather guarding the steel beneath.<br/>
“We should invest in a prosthetic for you,” Padmé murmurs against Maul’s jaw, and he studies her face somewhat dubiously.<br/>
“Would that please you?” She pauses at this, realizing how she must have sounded, and she shifts against him, moving to kiss him and faintly tasting herself on his tongue.<br/>
“<em>You</em> please me,” she says against his mouth, and presses her ass back against Obi-Wan, reaching and pulling his arm around her waist. “And I want to please you.” Obi-Wan noses at her hair, rutting against her from behind and meeting Maul’s gaze.<br/>
“<em>We</em> want to please you,” he corrects, and kisses Padmé’s ear. Maul sneers some at the both of them, but his arms tighten around Padmé and she knows, just as she knows Obi-Wan does. And when Obi-Wan presses into her again from this angle, pins her to Maul’s chest and grips her hips, fucking her hard and deep, she knows that Maul feels what Obi-Wan feels; knows the two of them have their link and that this is how she and Kenobi can please their Zabrak lover, knows every shriek and shudder drawn out of her is as much Maul’s effort as it is Obi-Wan’s, and she cries out for both of them just the same. She doesn’t fully understand how this works between the two of them, how they feel everything between the two of them, but she understands it deals with the Force and that it satisfies all three of them, and that contents her. As long as she’s known Obi-Wan and the Jedi, as much as she’s heard from Anakin, she knows that what both men feel between them is real, and that’s enough.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They press her between the two of them and Maul’s fingers circle her clit as Obi-Wan fucks her, hard enough that she rocks against Maul’s chest and they can all three hear the slap of his hips against her ass.<br/>
“Obi—“ she gasps, hands grasping at Maul’s tattooed skin, nails raking over his chest and making him hiss with pleasure. <br/>
“Perfect,” he growls, “<em>Perfect</em>.” And Padmé shudders, tilting her head back against Obi-Wan’s shoulder and feeling him rut into her deep enough to knock the air out of her lungs.<br/>
“More,” her legs squeeze around Maul’s waist and her voice is breathless, but commanding. “<em>More</em>.” And Maul’s free hand goes to her lips, offering two fingers.<br/>
“Open,” he asks—not a demand, a request. She obliges, coating his fingers with her tongue and holding his burning gaze as she does. Obi-Wan cradles her throat with one hand, the other still at her hip, and bites at the shell of her ear.<br/>
“Tell me,” his voice a low rumble, and she nods, Maul’s fingers withdrawing from her mouth so he can slide his hand between she and Obi-Wan, down over her back and to the cleft of her ass.<br/>
“Yes,” she tells him, “Do it.”<br/>
His fingers close around her throat as Maul slides one slick digit into her ass, slow and shallow. She groans, bucking against both of them, and Obi-Wan’s mouth stays by her ear.<br/>
“You feel perfect,” he groans, “So absolutely perfect,” and Maul’s finger presses deeper, before starting to slide in and out, in time with Obi-Wan’s strokes into her cunt.<br/>
“We could give this to you always,” Maul growls when he presses a second finger into her, and she jolts and whimpers against Obi-Wan’s hold on her neck. “Just like this, the way you need.” He’s craned his neck until his fingers at her clit stop, and that hand reaches up to her face, her mouth already open for him, tongue lolling out to ask for what he’s offering. His fingers paint her tongue with her arousal and he watches her lap it from his skin with fixated eyes. “You prefer this,” he rumbles, feeling her shudder and clench around both of them. “You prefer what we give you, you need this—“ She groans and Obi-Wan sinks completely into her, and stills for a moment, kissing her hair and over her ear.<br/>
“He’s right,” he murmurs, thumb tracing the underside of her jaw, “You know that we can take care of you, give you everything you need.”<br/>
The truth is that she wants them.<br/>
She knows what they want, she knows what she wants, but she knows that now…the time is not right. They know, too, but each time they still try and tempt her. One day she wonders if they will no longer take excuses.</p>
<p>They migrate, soon, to her bedroom—they fuck her ragged, until she can’t breathe, until she’s shaking and mewling and soaked with sweat and cum, caged between their bodies, over them, under them, on her knees—it seems almost a punishment for not agreeing to their offer, but she is the one in control. It could all end if she said the word, if she stopped it. She doesn’t. She never does, never will, she thinks. <br/>
“He could never give you this,” Maul likes to snarl, watching her come completely undone, “Never this way, never enough, never all you <em>need</em>. Not like we can,” and she hates how those words make her buck and clench and writhe for them. They’re right, every time: this is exactly what she needs, <em>they</em> are exactly what she needs, and she comes over and over for them, in ways she’s never managed with her husband.<br/>
That sparks some guilt, as always, but she will address it later, when she’s alone, when she isn’t screaming for lovers whose names should not be on her tongue and filled to bursting, slick, skin sticking to skin, with their cum and her own. Later when she’s alone and thinking of the fullness of being with these two and how much she craves it even though she absolutely should not.<br/>
For the hours they visit her, her thoughts are only on the three of them.</p>
<p><br/>
They stay, later, after she’s bathed and preparing for her senate address, and they set ornaments in her hair and watch her choose clothes. Maul paints her lips red and looks pleased with himself for it—Obi-Wan chooses gold for her to wear. They dust her with kisses and light touches, murmur together as if they belong this way, the three of them in this bed she should not share with them.<br/>
“I’ve got to leave soon. The appeal could last a while, I need to be there before the Senate all convenes,” she sighs finally, and Obi-Wan’s begun to dress again, sighing a bit to himself.<br/>
“Perhaps we haven't got an auditorium to hold our own appeal, but our offer still stands, dearest,” he glances at her, his tone as light as the little smile on his face, knowing she won’t change her mind like this, but his eyes are sincere. She sighs now as well, smoothing her hair down and facing her mirror.<br/>
“I know.” Maul appears behind her, hands framing her neck for a moment, eyes meeting hers in the reflection.<br/>
“Your efforts will be in vain this way,” he tells her, “Your Republic is no longer what you think it is.” She doesn’t flinch.<br/>
“I know. But I must keep working for the people that need me.”<br/>
“And when you can’t do any more for them?” She shuts her eyes.<br/>
“The galaxy needs someone to speak up.”<br/>
Maul’s hands leave her body.<br/>
“The galaxy is unforgiving and cruel, Lady Amidala.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the appeal, she manages to keep her mind focused, in spite of this.<br/>
The holocams will project her image to the galaxy, and the galaxy will not see the bruises hidden by her collar, in the shape of mouths and teeth. The galaxy will not see every mark left under her gown, will not see the way her legs shiver when she brushes against the angry welts inside her thighs, etched in by horns in erratic red patterns. She understands what they meant, earlier.<br/>
<em>The galaxy needs a voice, but we need <strong>you</strong>.</em></p>
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